


The Other Professor's Breaking Point

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Series: Professor John Winchester [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Bobby Singer AU, Crazy Chuck, Crazy Chuck AU, Crazy Chuck angst, Doctor Singer, F/M, Female Reader, Female Reader angst, Female Reader fluff, Fluff, Mental Breakdown, Mental Illness, OFC - Freeform, Original Female Character - Freeform, Professor!Chuck, Professor!Chuck AU, Professor!Chuck Angst, Professor!John, Professor!John AU, Professor!John angst, Professor!John fluff, Rober Singer AU, Schizophrenia, Schizophrenic Chuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:32:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5832739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck’s schizophrenia reaches a breaking point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Professor's Breaking Point

John’s hand on your wrist stopped you from running down the alley, behind the bar. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” He made sure to let you and Doctor Singer know that he hated this plan from the very beginning.

“I’m sure. He’s close to breaking, John. And if we surprise him, I might never get him back.” You swallowed at the lump in your throat, watching as Doctor Singer came to stand next to you.

“We’ll give you a couple minutes, Y/N. But after that –“

“I know.” The plan was that you’d approach Chuck first, to try and convince him that admitting himself, that getting back on his medication, was the only thing that would save him.

John bent down to kiss the top of your head. “If something happens –“

“I’ll be ok.” You scratched through his beard before turning on your heel.

The alley was dark, dimly lit with a handful of yellow bulbs. It smelled like week old garbage and pine, like someone tried scrubbing out the dumpsters.

“Chuck? Where are you, sweetie?”

A curly mop of disheveled hair appeared behind a dumpster. “Y/N?”

“It’s ok. Come on out.” With how distrusting as he sounded on the phone, you didn’t want him to think that you were armed or anything. You held your hands palms out, raised slightly. “Please, Chuck.”

“A – are you alone? I heard voices.”

“It’s just me.”

He stood slowly before stepping out of the darkness. He hung his head, dragging a dirty hand through his unruly curls. “I… I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Why not?”

“Because of what I’ve done.” Brown eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed, looking more haunted than you had ever seen.

You tried to ignore the shiver that crept up your spine at his words. “What have you done?”

He pulled something from his back pocket, and that’s when you noticed it wasn’t dirt that covered his hands. “I killed him, Y/N.”

It was so much worse than you thought. “Who, Chuck?”

With the blade in his hand, he stepped closer. “Dick Roman. He… I… I think I killed him.”

“There’s a big difference between thinking and doing. What do you remember?”

Chuck shook his head as his face twitched. He ran a hand through his hair, dropping the knife in the process. “No. It wasn’t me. It was… it was a demon. She killed him. Her eyes were black when she slit his throat. I… I hid behind the desk. Yes, that’s it. I didn’t… I couldn’t… I went in after she left and –“ he struck himself in the forehead with his palm.

The tears you had been trying so hard to hold back spilled over as you winced. “Then what?”

He grabbed your wrists, blood caked fingers bit painfully into your skin. Wide, unfocused eyes drilled into yours. “I… I… I watched as he fucked her, you know. Spilled his black cum in her like the hellish whore she is. She liked it when he choked her as they fucked. Her eyes would go black every time she came. And when she tried screaming, he’d choke her harder. Choke her until she turned purple, until his cum dripped down her legs.”

You’d never heard your best friend talk like this, and it scared you more than the physical pain he was causing. “Who did he fuck?”

Talking with him, going along with his delusions had always worked for you in the past. So when his eyes narrowed, snapping into focus, surprise exploded in your chest. He pulled you close enough that his hot breath fanned against your face. “You fucking bitch.”

John’s voice was behind you, far enough that you knew if Chuck wanted to hurt you, he could do it before anyone reached you. “What do you say you let her go, huh?”

Chuck sneered, baring his teeth as he turned his angry gaze to John. “Just who the fuck do you think you are?”

Nails cut into your skin as your friend gripped you tighter, almost enough to drive you to your knees. You choked on a whimper. “Chuck, please.”

“No! You’re working for him, for Roman. I can see it all over you, the black goo. It’s everywhere.”

Another voice joined the group. “Tell me about this black goo, Chuck.”

“It’s everywhere, Doctor Singer. C – can’t you see it?” He spun you around, clamping a hand on the back of your neck as you stumbled to your knees.

When John took a step closer, his hands held out, you shook your head once, gritting your teeth through the pain.

“I see it, Chuck. I do.”

“Y – you do?” The hand on your neck loosened only a fraction.

Singer moved closer and closer, one step at a time so he didn’t appear threatening. “Yes. Would you like to tell me more?”

Chuck must have nodded, because Singer smiled warmly. “Good, that’s good, Chuck. Before you tell me more, could you do me one small favor?”

The hand on your neck flexed painfully. “Ok.”

“Let Y/N go. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“NO! She… she betrayed me!”

The sound of his broken voice drove you to cry harder. You kept telling yourself that he was sick, that he needed help, that he didn’t mean anything he said. It was really hard to believe your inner monologue when his fingers dug deeper, harder into your skin.

The doctor moved closer, his hands held out, palms up. “Ok, Chuck. I believe you. But hurting her isn’t going to make you feel better. Let her go, ok? Then you and I can go back to my office, and we can talk.”

It felt like an hour passed before Chuck answered. “I think… yes, that would be ok.” His hand relaxed on the back of your neck, slid over your shoulder, and down your arm to grab your elbow.

You stomped down the urge to run as he helped you off the concrete. “Th – thank you.”

His eyes were kind as he smiled. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, Doctor Singer produced a needle full of some sedative that had a long name you couldn’t pronounce. It was pushed into Chuck’s shoulder, the light brown liquid disappearing into his bloodstream with the push of a plunger.

You grabbed on to his elbows as shock overtook his features. “It’s ok, Chuck. It’s ok.”

* * *

It was several hours later when you walked into John’s apartment. His hand was on your lower back and you were wearing his jacket because you couldn’t stop shivering despite the unseasonably warm temperature.

After signing the emergency admission forms, Doctor Singer called the police, and sure enough, Dick Roman had been murdered. An anonymous call was placed earlier in the evening. But by the time the first squad showed up, Chuck was long gone.

The three of you gave your statements as to provide insight to Chuck’s mental illness and past violent episodes. Despite the Detective’s best efforts, Doctor Singer wouldn’t provide Chuck’s file. They didn’t have a warrant. Not yet.

You knew what it looked like. Even to the most seasoned Detective, it looked like Chuck had killed Dick Roman. He had means, motive, and opportunity. He couldn’t provide an alibi, and… well… the last thing that happened between the two was more than enough to hold even the sanest of people.

The Detectives asked you a hundred times if you wanted to press charges. But despite the darkening bruises on your wrists and neck, you wouldn’t do it. Chuck was your best friend. He’d never hurt you if he were in the right frame of mind. And to punish him for that? No way. Not a chance in Hell.

Sitting on the couch with your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands, you blew out a deep, shuddering breath.

John’s hand was on your shoulder. “How about something to drink.”

All you could do was nod. Your throat was too thick and in a heartbeat, your vision blurred. While John pulled a couple of glasses from the cupboard, Bisou wriggled between your legs. With ears flat against her head, she pressed her wet nose against the inside of your wrist.

“Bisou, come on, girl. Leave Y/N alone.”

She whined softly as her tail thumped once against your shoe.

With a shuddering intake of air, you dropped a hand to her head, scratching behind her ear. “It’s ok.”

Bisou shifted until her back was pressed against the couch, tipping her head back so you could scratch her neck and chest as she licked your tear streaked neck.

You sat like that for several minutes, even after John sat next to you, placing a glass of whiskey into your other hand.

His voice was gravelly yet soft, as if he thought he would scare you. “Are you ok?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean… my best friend might have killed someone tonight.”

“Do you believe he did?”

“No.” You drained the glass, hissing as it burned down your chest.

“What do we do?”

A rueful chuckle spilled out. “We’re gonna need a hell of a good lawyer.”

* * *

Chuck sat on the edge of the bed, rocking back and forth as his mind raced. There were too many voices, too many bright lights and sounds, too many people with conflicting stories. He didn’t know who to believe or what story made more sense. All he knew was that he had hurt someone tonight.

A knock announced the arrival of his nurse, which meant medication. He didn’t have anything against taking the medication. Sure, it made him feel foggy some days, but for the most part, he felt good. He was actually able to teach a class without feeling like the students were out to get him.

So why did he stop taking it? Hell if he knew.

“Time to take your medicine.” Her voice cut through his mind, silencing the noise immediately.

It took him a few moments to adjust to the quiet. It must have been a moment too long, because she cleared her throat as she stood by the table. “Chuck?”

Crystal, blue eyes surrounded by thick, black lashes all but rendered him speechless. Her long, raven black hair was in a braid, pulled over her right shoulder. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

She held out two cups for him. The smaller contained an assortment of colored pills while the other was half full with water.

He caught sight of her name tag as he accepted the cups, swallowing the pills with ease. “Thank you, Kelsey.”

“You’re welcome. Now, open your mouth and lift your tongue.” It was a typical routine check. She used a tongue depressor to move his tongue around until she was satisfied that he had swallowed every last pill.

Taking the cups from him with a smile, she turned to the door, and that’s when he saw them. Shadows covered the walls as lightning flashed outside. Kelsey had wings. They covered the entirety of two walls, feathers fluttering in an invisible breeze.

Kelsey wasn’t just his nurse, she was his guardian angel.


End file.
